I'll look back on with nostalgia. I'm staying here, Loki. I'm not going back with you."
Lokrien shakes his head as if to clear it of some dark vision. "You don't know what you're saying. Never to go back? Never to see Ysar, to wear the uniform again, to sail with the Fleet—"
"All those things, Loki."
"Do you know what I did to come here?" Lokrien says. "I deserted my post in the line of battle. I waited for a lull and turned my boat and drove for this outpost world to look for you. It took me all these years of searching to pick up the trace from your body shield circuitry and find you here. With luck we can concoct a story to explain how I found you—"
"Loki, I can't desert my home, my wife, my child."
"You'd let this savage female and her cub stand in the way of . . ." Lokrien hesitates. "I'm sorry, Thor. The woman is beautiful. But Ysar! You'd give up your whole life for this barn, these grubby fields, this petty barony—"
"Yes."
"Then think of your duty to the Fleet."
"The Fleet is only a collection of machines, once the dream behind it is gone."
"You think you'll find the dream, as you call it, here on this backwoods world?"
"Better a live acorn than a dead forest, Loki."
Loki looks across the gulf at the brother he had come to find. "I could force you, Thor. I still have my suit and my Y-gun."
Gralgrathor smiles a little.
"Don't try to decide now," Lokrien says. "We're both tired. We need sleep. In the morning—"
"In the morning nothing will have changed."
"No? Perhaps you're wrong about that."
"There are clean furs there, on the hearth," Gralgrathor says. "Sleep well, Loki. I need to walk for a while."
Lokrien's eyes follow Gralgrathor as he steps out into the icy moonlight.
Chapter Five
1
"Let me get this straight," the commander of the Lakewood Naval Air Station said grimly. "You're telling me I lost a pilot in broad daylight, in a whirlpool? "
"Not precisely that, Commodore Keyes," the colonel said. "There's a tremendous volume of air involved in this thing, too. Friction with the water surface, you understand—"
"No, I don't understand. Maybe you'd better start at the beginning."
"I have the recording of the pilot's transmissions here, in the event you'd care to hear it."
The commodore nodded curtly. The colonel hastily set up the small portable player, adjusted the tape. In a moment the pilot's voice was coming through crisply.
The two men listened in silence, following the recon plane's progress. The commodore's face was set in a scowl as the tape ended.
"All right, what are we doing about this thing?"
"The nucleus of the disturbance is centered on a point northwest of Bermuda." The colonel stepped to the large world map on the wall and indicated the spot. "It's growing steadily larger, setting up powerful winds and currents over an area of several thousand square miles. Water is being pulled in toward the center from every direction, thus the whirlpool." The colonel produced a stack of photos from his briefcase and passed them across the desk. They showed a great, glossy-black funnel, wrapped in dusty spirals like disintegrating cotton-wool batting.
"Those were made with ultraviolet from about a hundred miles out. You'll note the calibration marks; they show that the throat of the whirlpool is approximately a tenth of a mile wide at the surface—"
" How wide?"
"I know it sounds incredible, Commodore, but I have it on good assurance that the figure of five hundred feet is accurate."
"Hopper, do you have any idea of the volume of water you're talking about?"
"Well, I could work it out—"
"How deep is the sea at this point?"
"I don't have the exact figure, sir, but it is deep ocean there, well off the continental shelf—"
"What kind of force would it take to get that much water moving at the velocity this thing must have? Where's the energy coming from?"
"Well, Commodore—"
"And you say water is flowing in from every direction.
Lokrien shakes his head as if to clear it of some dark vision. "You don't know what you're saying. Never to go back? Never to see Ysar, to wear the uniform again, to sail with the Fleet—"
"All those things, Loki."
"Do you know what I did to come here?" Lokrien says. "I deserted my post in the line of battle. I waited for a lull and turned my boat and drove for this outpost world to look for you. It took me all these years of searching to pick up the trace from your body shield circuitry and find you here. With luck we can concoct a story to explain how I found you—"
"Loki, I can't desert my home, my wife, my child."
"You'd let this savage female and her cub stand in the way of . . ." Lokrien hesitates. "I'm sorry, Thor. The woman is beautiful. But Ysar! You'd give up your whole life for this barn, these grubby fields, this petty barony—"
"Yes."
"Then think of your duty to the Fleet."
"The Fleet is only a collection of machines, once the dream behind it is gone."
"You think you'll find the dream, as you call it, here on this backwoods world?"
"Better a live acorn than a dead forest, Loki."
Loki looks across the gulf at the brother he had come to find. "I could force you, Thor. I still have my suit and my Y-gun."
Gralgrathor smiles a little.
"Don't try to decide now," Lokrien says. "We're both tired. We need sleep. In the morning—"
"In the morning nothing will have changed."
"No? Perhaps you're wrong about that."
"There are clean furs there, on the hearth," Gralgrathor says. "Sleep well, Loki. I need to walk for a while."
Lokrien's eyes follow Gralgrathor as he steps out into the icy moonlight.
Chapter Five
1
"Let me get this straight," the commander of the Lakewood Naval Air Station said grimly. "You're telling me I lost a pilot in broad daylight, in a whirlpool? "
"Not precisely that, Commodore Keyes," the colonel said. "There's a tremendous volume of air involved in this thing, too. Friction with the water surface, you understand—"
"No, I don't understand. Maybe you'd better start at the beginning."
"I have the recording of the pilot's transmissions here, in the event you'd care to hear it."
The commodore nodded curtly. The colonel hastily set up the small portable player, adjusted the tape. In a moment the pilot's voice was coming through crisply.
The two men listened in silence, following the recon plane's progress. The commodore's face was set in a scowl as the tape ended.
"All right, what are we doing about this thing?"
"The nucleus of the disturbance is centered on a point northwest of Bermuda." The colonel stepped to the large world map on the wall and indicated the spot. "It's growing steadily larger, setting up powerful winds and currents over an area of several thousand square miles. Water is being pulled in toward the center from every direction, thus the whirlpool." The colonel produced a stack of photos from his briefcase and passed them across the desk. They showed a great, glossy-black funnel, wrapped in dusty spirals like disintegrating cotton-wool batting.
"Those were made with ultraviolet from about a hundred miles out. You'll note the calibration marks; they show that the throat of the whirlpool is approximately a tenth of a mile wide at the surface—"
" How wide?"
"I know it sounds incredible, Commodore, but I have it on good assurance that the figure of five hundred feet is accurate."
"Hopper, do you have any idea of the volume of water you're talking about?"
"Well, I could work it out—"
"How deep is the sea at this point?"
"I don't have the exact figure, sir, but it is deep ocean there, well off the continental shelf—"
"What kind of force would it take to get that much water moving at the velocity this thing must have? Where's the energy coming from?"
"Well, Commodore—"
"And you say water is flowing in from every direction.
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